


The Beast In Heat

by Hambone



Category: Lego Ninjago, The LEGO Ninjago Movie (2017)
Genre: Accidental Incest, Anal Sex, Biting, Blood, Daddy Issues, M/M, Scratching, Teasing, Threats, Unresolved Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-05
Updated: 2018-04-05
Packaged: 2019-04-18 22:37:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14223300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hambone/pseuds/Hambone
Summary: Garmadon finally captures that pesky Green Ninja and shows him who's boss.





	The Beast In Heat

**Author's Note:**

> Breaking into Lego's with the gross shit! Fair warning this is really gross~ 
> 
> Movie!verse. Garmadon doesn't know the Green Ninja's identity yet. 
> 
> Enjoy!

    “Well, well, well.”

    Garmadon announced his entrance loudly, unnecessarily so, and slammed the door behind himself. The room was built to echo and it did, surrounding them briefly in a wall of violent sound. Lloyd did not move, barely allowed himself to breathe through his bloodied lips, refusing to show any sign of change now that his nemesis was here. He would not falter.

    “Well, well, well,” Garmadon said again, striding closer, his robes billowing around him like a fog, “well, well, well, well, well.”

    He stopped just before them, the guards who held his arms behind his back and their captive, Lloyd, knees grinding into the dark stone flooring of the prison until they bled. His face was flushed and wet, clinging to his mask as various wounds dried and reopened again with every subtle movement, but through his puffy eyes he stared defiantly upwards into the torrid glow of his father’s.

    “Well, well, well-”

    “What do you want, Garmadon!” Lloyd snapped. As if surprised, Garmadon held a hand to his breast, another to his temple, and two more held out in a mocking gesture of placation.

    “So rude! Who raised you ninjas anyhow?”

    The comment bit far more harshly than he’d intended it to and Lloyd visibly flinched, glaring harder than before. Garmadon noted this, wondered about it for a moment, and then promptly forgot about it as inconsequential. One hundred and seventy four years was too long a time to remember every little detail about the people he killed. The Green Ninja was no different, if not a little younger and more needy than most of his enemies. The day Wu started throwing children at him was the day Garmadon knew he was close to success.

    His quarry was saying nothing, so he dropped the act and turned a grimacing grin down at him.

    “The Green Ninja,” he purred, folding his arms behind himself, “biggest thorn in my butt since the Serpentine Wars.”

    “It wouldn’t be this way if you’d learn your lesson and just leave!”

    The Green Ninja was furious, breathing heavily. Or maybe that was from the pain. Garmadon was pretty certain he’d heard a neat crack when he’d stomped on the boy’s wrist earlier in the heat of battle. The memory made him smile wider.

    “The only lessons you brats could teach me are in patience and,” he looked down his nose, flicking the dual tips of his red tongue between his teeth slightly, “punishment.”

    Lloyd hated him with everything he had. There weren’t words to describe it, but he tried anyways, lips fumbling and split.

    “You’re a fool if you think you’ll ever break us!” he rocked forwards onto the gravel, streaking it with blood, not caring, “no matter how many of us you take down, we’ll always come back!”

    This was too precious. The kid was practically begging for another good slap to the face, and he got one. Compared to the way his fists flew in true combat it was nothing more than a love tap, but the Green Ninja fell back anyways, gasping. When he turned back to look at him, his left eye was squinted and bloodshot. Garmadon let out a deep, pleased breath.

    “There are some things you don’t come back from, kiddo.”

    He nodded to the soldiers holding the Ninja and they bowed, simultaneously retrieving magnetic wrist cuffs from their utility belts and bound Lloyd arm to ankle. He struggled against it some, but weakly, and with great difficulty. Garmadon noted he was right about the wrist. The Green Ninja’s hand was turning an ugly purple. Once finished they stood, still bowing somewhat, and stepped back.

    “Out,” said Garmadon, flicking his head back towards the door, and with nervous shuffling they complied. The steel slamming closed reverberated through Lloyd’s bones and made his teeth hurt. Forced to kneel by his bondage, he braced himself.

    “What,” he spat, “you don’t want them to be here for the big moment?”

    Garmadon, who had been admiring him, shook himself out of it.

    “Big moment? Aren’t we getting a little ahead of ourselves?”

    Some of Lloyd’s hair was working loose from its binding and falling down into his eyes. Sweat and salt and blood conspired to make him lose his focus, but he refused.

    “The unmasking? To see who your greatest foe was?”

    Garmadon looked at him.

    “Aren’t you going to show the world the Ninja you defeated?” He stumbled on his words, something odd sinking inside him. “Prove you’re the greatest by shoving it in my friend’s and family’s faces?”

    He had never seen the Lord of the Underworld so quiet. After years of battle and explosions and shark themed weaponry, the drabness of their setting, of the face of his captor, was truly unnerving. The only times he had ever gotten close to trapping them before involved elaborate machinery and teams of technicians, bizarre and flashy instruments of destruction and grandiose speeches. The prison at the base of the volcano, however, was dead silent, black and dark and empty. He could hear nothing from outside its walls, and there were no windows, no doors but the one set. There weren’t even shackles or chains hanging from the walls, a well-placed skeleton in the corner to frighten any visitor, scorpions in the dirt. It was stifling.

     “You put a lot of importance on yourself,” said Garmadon, and in the dark room it echoed low and rumbling. Lloyd didn’t flinch. “More than I’ve ever given you.”

    Garmadon knelt in front of him, crossing two arms across his knee and using another to lift the Ninja’s face to meet his. Lloyd tried to steel himself, puffing out his chest and then wheezing a breath when his ribs ached. Pondering him boredly, Garmadon pursed his lips, fangs barely visible between them.

    “I don’t care who you are, little ninja. I don’t care what you look like under this, or who your mommy is, or whether or not you have a little dog named Skip who needs you to come home. You’re the Green Ninja. You’re a kid in a badly tailored gi my brother gave you trying to stop a storm that’s been coming since centuries before you were born. What about you could possibly be so interesting.”

    The words struck him dizzy. Lloyd’s jaw flexed, but he couldn’t speak. It was such a lovely look, Garmadon thought, that fear and loathing. And still his eyes remained dry. What a brave little boy.

    “I’m not a child,” the Ninja bit out, voice quavering, and Garmadon knew he’d struck gold. The satisfaction of sticking the knife in and then prodding, poking, until you found the fault that would split the seams perfectly. He squeezed his thumb and forefinger where they perched on the boy’s jaw, so smooth and round beneath his mask, barely becoming a man. The nail on his thumb traced an angry line of blood below his already wounded eye, dangerously close, and he watched as the Green Ninja tried to follow its path.

    “Not a child?” he said, stroking over the cut he’d just made, “then, would you rather I treated you like I’d treat a real prisoner?”

    Unsure of what he really meant, Lloyd said, “don’t I deserve that much?”

    Garmadon’s teeth were as large as tombstones.

    “If you say so, boy.”

    He kicked out sharply, catching Lloyd in his exposed gut. His stomach already felt like a pulp, and Lloyd doubled over, gagging. Then his scalp stung and it took him until the action was over to realize Garmadon had grabbed his hair through his mask and flung him backwards to the floor. Because of the way he was tied, his legs spread open wide, arms pinned under himself. As soon as he realized this he rolled to one side, still getting his breath back, but Lord Garmadon caught one knee and pulled him back up and open.

    “Come on, now, don’t be shy.”

    Lloyd struggled upwards, growling, but just trying to untangle his arms pulled on his shoulders till they ached. One of Garmadon’s hands took his other knee, holding him apart, and the monster leaned down between them to sneer into his face. From this distance he could really see, for the first time in his life, the detail of his father’s face; the black, scale like skin that stretched across his cheeks in an ever-present grimace, the way his long canines curved outwards like small tusks, the cruel, bloody shine in his eyes. His proximity exuded heat, as though Garmadon was some extension of the very volcano he lived in, or perhaps the other way around. His breath smelled like a furnace.

    “I hope you really meant what you said, boy,” said Garmadon, reaching up with two more arms to grasp the front of Lloyd’s gi, “for your sake.” He tore it apart.

    Lloyd had been expecting pain, so when he got exposure instead he yelped rather unflatteringly. Garmadon laughed at him, but his eyes were glued to Lloyd’s body. The kid was attractive, that he freely admitted. In fact he admitted it a little too often. The Generals were becoming uncomfortable. It wasn’t his fault this twerp with obvious issues was parading himself around like that! Well, actually it was entirely his fault as the ninjas wouldn’t even be around if it weren’t for him, but Garmadon had never let details stand in the way of a good story.

    “What do you think you’re doing?” yelled Lloyd, chest heaving. His chest itself was of some interest: he was small, but his strength was obvious. His pectorals shuddered beneath his gaze, hardened by beatings and clenched tight with fear. Garmadon noted, and much appreciated, the clear cut lines of lean muscle flexing and falling under the weight of his breath. Though he had only undone the ninja’s top, he could see a lovely patchwork of black and purple bruising on his stomach, and the way his skinny ribs expanded and contracted above them, fragile little things under glass skin. He was tough for a human of his age, but it was a marvel to Garmadon how long this toothpick had caused him bother.

    “You asked for it,” he sang, pushing his thumbs into the space above the Ninja’s collarbone, testing the muscle and tendon. The boy was as wiry in muscle as he looked. He let his claws dig in just enough to hurt, watching his victim’s face screw up behind the mask.

    “Get used to it, baby boy,” he growled, pushing harder incrementally until red droplets of blood began to collect in the dimples he’d made, “it’s gonna be a long night.”

    He cupped a hand around the Ninja’s left chest, finding the hard point of his nipple. The Green Ninja jolted a bit, and Garmadon could feel his heartbeat through his hand, fluttering sharply.

    “If- If this is some tactic to…” he stuttered as Garmadon peaked his fingers around the nub of his nipple, gently, “I’m not telling you anything, not about Wu, or about-!”

    “Oh my gosh, kiddo, I don’t care!”

    As he spoke he dug his claws into the taut space in the fabric over the Ninja’s waist, teasing the thick belt. The Ninja was breathing hard through his nose, eyes flickering between his exposed body and Garmadon, glaring uncertainly. Garmadon bet he was biting his lip, bet he was so salty under that little bit of fabric. Redness was already blooming in uneven splotches behind the bruises on his face. He flicked his thumb up and snapped the tie in half, loosening the edges of his top and the pants of his gi.

    Garmadon grabbed his tits and squeezed hard. They were surprisingly soft for someone with such a hard body, nipples large and dusky. His claws nipped little circles into the flesh of his pecs around them. When he removed his hands he’d left dark handprints in their place. He leered at the Ninja.

    “You don’t scare me,” said Lloyd, terrified.

    “Yeah I do.”

    Master Wu had told them before how interrogation tactics worked, how, in the unlikely event of capture, they would be made to feel small and alone, like they had no choice but to give in. As per usual, the master wasn’t particularly forthcoming with details, but Lloyd was certain this was what he meant, a way to make him uncomfortable with his body, to want to close himself away. It was working in part; he didn’t want to be scrutinized like this. Who he was and where he’d come from were some of his most closely guarded secrets as a ninja, something that protected his friends and family. Mostly, though, it protected his ego. He had wanted his father to see him, despite knowing how bad an idea it was, but not like this.

    Garmadon’s hands wandered downwards. The Ninja had a sweet little speckling of birthmarks across his belly. He let his fingers trace constellations between them, pressing down hard on every one just to see the way his muscles shuddered with the burn.

    “You know, Ninja,” he said, tilting his head to the side lazily, “you’ve got a pretty nice little look going on here. I like it.”

    The Ninja grunted, twisting his head away. Garmadon could just imagine the pout he was probably sporting, hopefully on split lips. He took the ties to his gi in hand, tugging ever so gently on them.

    “I did always wonder why it had to be you who faced off with me every time, not one of your little buddies.”

    He watched the way his ribs expanded with each heave.

    “I mean, it’s not like you’re the only one who can fight. All you do is drive around a little, press some buttons, you know the deal.”

    The kid had the audacity to scoff. Garmadon chuckled lowly. What a brat. He tugged the clean knot of his pants undone.

    “I’m thinking you’ve got some sort of complex about me. Like, sure, you’re honor bound to destroy me and my armies and keep Ninjago City safe, blah blah blah, but that can’t be all there is, not with the way you chase me down every time.”

    When he hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his pants, Lloyd couldn’t help but try to snap his knees shut. Lord Garmadon still had two of his hands holding them apart, and his efforts were predictably fruitless, but something about this situation was hardening in his stomach like lead. He knew humiliation was a form of torture and that Garmadon wanted him cold and scared. He knew that fighting back was doing nothing but stroking his father’s ego at this point, and that he was setting himself up for a fall here. He knew that his brothers in arms would burst in here any minute now and save him, and he wouldn’t really be left here alone with the source of all his suffering, but to be seen naked and afraid was just. Too much.

    “I fight you because you won’t leave!” he snapped, covering up for his slip. Well, trying to.

    “I think you’ve got issues, kid. Big ones.”

    He pulled Lloyd’s pants down his thighs, which was difficult to do with Lloyd’s arms pulled down like that, but he got them far enough. Lloyd refused to look at him, but he could feel the way Garmadon’s eyes ate him up. He was probably marking out all the soft spots on his body where a blade could dig in deep, or where he could add some new bruises to Lloyd’s collection. Intimidation, that’s all it was.

    “Why is it so important that I notice you, Green Ninja?”

    He put two palms to Lloyd’s legs, hot enough to make goosebumps rise on his skin.

    “What am I to you, hm? An arch nemesis?”

    Lloyd hissed, teeth grinding.

    “You’re evil.”

    Garmadon laughed out loud, head thrown back, and Lloyd could see that smile clearly for the first time, despite how he tried not to. His tongue was split like a snake’s.

    “Flattery will get you everywhere, Ninja.”

    The Ninja was wearing some flattering little black boxer briefs, probably just because they went well under the gi, but it was still rather cute. These nerdy little kids really had no business playing in the big boy’s league. He pressed the heel of one hand into the bony top of the Ninja’s groin. Two others met the warm insides of his thighs. The Green Ninja had such soft, tender skin, feathered with blonde baby hairs almost invisible to the eye. Garmadon wanted to break him so badly.

    “You ever played this game before?” he asked, stroking tender lines across the Ninja’s legs, dragging his claws closer and closer to the line of his underpants. He rubbed the top of his crotch, sensing the uneven flow of blood as the boy’s heart rate increased, feeling the thrum of adrenaline once again trying to revitalize his strained body. He patted the Ninja’s cheek and laughed derisively.

     “’Course you haven’t. You’re a good kid.”

    He curled his fingers into the waistband and peeled his trunks off slowly. He could have just ripped them off like he had with the gi top, but it was far more entertaining to see how the Ninja’s eyes bugged out of his head, see the cloth covering his nose and mouth puff in and out, in and out. He was gasping, but he still wouldn’t talk. Or couldn’t. Garmadon wasn’t sure if the Green Ninja had switched from playing his proud little game of not giving in to petrified silent terror. He couldn’t decide which was more fun.

    Everything was soft and pink. The Ninja was unaroused, obviously, probably about pissing himself in fear – who wouldn’t be? – and it seemed here between his legs he was unblemished by bruising, pure looking. Garmadon had to change that.

    Ignoring the way the Ninja jerked away from him, Garmadon squeezed his inner thighs with two rough hands, spreading them as wide as they could go with his pants around his ankles. Awkwardly twisting on his back, the ninja made a soft, shuddering noise, like air escaping a corpse.

    “What are you doing?”

    That menacing tone was dying in his throat. It always gave Garmadon a nice, warm feeling in his belly when the enemy started to break.

    “Wow, you really need to get out more.”

    He dug in his claws. This time he wasn’t playing around and the Ninja cried out, not expecting it. It hurt, a lot. Lloyd had let his confusion and, frankly, embarrassment distract him from what Lord Garmadon was doing, just like he had told himself over and over again not to. His father was pressing down, testing his muscles from the inside. He choked back a whine, feeling like an idiot.

    “Get off me!”

    In response, Garmadon flexed the muscles in his hands, just once, just enough to see the pain reignite in the kid’s green eyes, before snapping his fingers down, digging deep gashes into his soft skin. Lloyd howled, head snapping back away from the red. In the heat of battle injuries bigger than this had barely phased him, but in private, controlled settings, where there was no epinephrine, no goal to reach for, it was all he could think about. It was wet, and it burned. Trying to gather himself, Lloyd looked back up over his chest, blinking away tears. He couldn’t tell how deeply he’d been wounded, or how seriously. Had Garmadon cut something important? An artery? Was there one there? There was so much blood, so quickly.

    Garmadon held him still, licking some off his fingers. The Green Ninja was quick to panic, and at such a trivial little papercut. It made him a bit giddy. He could tell it’d leave a pretty nasty set of scars.  

    “There, kiddo, something to remember me by.”

    The Ninja glared at him, a little slowly, woozily, pupils blown.

    “H-how…”

    “Look, don’t even bother.”

    Blood ran down the Ninja’s legs, dripping down the cut of his groin and ass as Garmadon held him on his back. Garmadon ran a finger through it, enjoying how the Ninja hissed, tracing aimless patterns.

    “That tough act is getting you nowhere. And, honestly, it’s not that cute on you.”

    The Ninja growled low in his throat, though with his kitten voice it was almost like a purr.

    “What?” Garmadon laughed, “I’m just saying! You need to try something else. It’s not like I’m suddenly going to become overwhelmed with guilt and let you go. Unless you really think you can intimidate me away. Which is just sad, if true.”

    Lloyd was focusing on his breathing, letting his heart rate slow. He wasn’t hurt badly. It stung like hell and he was naked and cold and alone, but he was okay. Garmadon was just toying with him. If he wanted him dead, he’d had ample time. This was all some sort of twisted game to him, and Lloyd was setting himself up to lose by getting caught up in it. No, no, he was okay.

    Then Garmadon’s thumb, having bored of skating about his thigh, slid down further to rub just a hair too close to his dick for comfort. He jolted again, nervous about those claws, but that didn’t seem to be his father’s goal. In fact, now his touch was somewhat gentle, sickeningly so, as he rubbed that thumb up and down the soft flesh at the juncture of leg and hip.

    “You sure are cute, Ninja,” said Garmadon casually, “Total bummer for you to have picked this as your career. Could have made a lot of money doing, like, literally anything else with a sweet ass like yours.”

    To punctuate, he shamelessly groped beneath Lloyd and grabbed a handful of his buttocks. Sickness sank in. Lloyd stared at him.

    “Too bad you ended up here, with me.”

    He wanted to say this was a spur of the moment kind of thing, that the Ninja was simply there and warm bodied and bloodied, but Garmadon had lied to himself enough in his long, long lifetime. The Green Ninja was someone he’d wanted to show his place since they’d first clashed, and yes, that did mean fucking him. His claws slid up a fraction and he rubbed the rough pads of his fingertips across the Ninja’s ass.

    Lloyd thrashed. The bruises and gashes, the awkward position, his crushed wrist; he could feel none of them in wake of the wave of horror that took him. Garmadon didn’t know what he was doing, not the whole reality of it, he couldn’t. This was beyond any sort of evil, or torture; it was beyond nature. The way Lloyd was bent, the way he was hurt, his movements barely did more than annoy Garmadon, but anything was better than sitting still. He had to tell him. He had to let him know what was about to happen, the way it reflected on both of them, but Lloyd found his throat stuck shut. He gargled out a high sound.

    “Ah-ha, you like that?” Garmadon grinned, his fangs like tusks. His hold didn’t even falter as he pressed the tip of two fingers harder against his asshole, just barely letting him feel how easy it was going to be to push right on past his natural defenses. “You’re so soft, baby boy.”

    The Ninja was finally starting to get it. His legs clenched weakly against Garmadon’s hold, trying to close, and he was making a sort of thin whining sound. Garmadon pressed his index finger down harder, forcing the give just a little more, and watched him begin to hyperventilate. He was older now, and things moved a bit slower inside, but the coals in his stomach were already glowing as the fire began to stir. The Ninja’s blood slickened his movements, and the smell made his mouth water. He’d wanted this a long, long time.

    “Stop, you have to stop!”

    The Green Ninja could barely choke out the words. Garmadon’s chest felt tight for air, but he knew how to fix that. Without remorse he pushed his finger in to the knuckle. It was a rough slide, but he didn’t mind. The Ninja went stiff as a board, muscles pulsing, and cried out loudly. His eyes were such a nice, bright color, and Garmadon found himself admiring the way his pale blonde lashes grew sticky with unshed tears.

    “Don’t worry,” he crooned, “I’m experienced.” He twisted his finger, letting the Ninja feel the way his claws didn’t snag, “I won’t cut you.”

    That didn’t seem to be the problem. The Ninja’s mouth was making wet markings that soaked through his mask as he garbled in panic.

    “Stop, s-stop, you can’t- you don’t understand- it’s-!”

    “I don’t understand? Me?” Garmadon laughed fully, a deep, rumbling sound like the shifting of the earth before a quake. “I’ve lived four times the life any human is capable of living, and I’m not nearly done yet. What could I possibly not understand here, kid?”

    He twisted his finger again, probing, enjoying the way the Ninja was shuddering and hot and silky smooth around him. Hell surged into his gut.

    “Please,” the Ninja was looking at him, dewy and red around the eyes even where they weren’t swollen shut with blood, “you don’t- I’m- you’re m-my…”

    He couldn’t seem to get the words out. Garmadon rolled his head on his shoulders, relaxing with a small sigh, and regarded the Ninja warmly.

    “I’m your enemy,” he said.

    He pushed in a second finger and the Ninja’s hips recoiled off the floor, shaking as he squeezed inside without mercy. He moaned, long and pitifully, and Garmadon began to piston his hand immediately. He pushed the Ninja’s chest down hard, keeping him as flat on his back as he could be, and he could hear an edge of desperate pain bleed into the kid’s cries immediately as his arms were crushed. He liked it.

    “Remember that, kid,” he said, pausing to curl his fingers inside and watch how the Green Ninja squirmed, “never forget who you’re fighting.”

    “That isn’t- you can’t-!”

    Lloyd felt like he was losing his mind. Garmadon, his father, _Garmadon_ , he was searing him raw inside. He couldn’t breathe through the thick fabric of his mask, his nose clogged with blood and snot. One of Garmadon’s hands dugs its claws into his thigh painfully while yet another stroked across his bruised chest. His fingers were fat and rough inside of him, pulling him apart. He felt like he should be tearing like paper but instead he felt himself opening up easily, too easily, and his cock stirring.

    “I can do,” Garmadon said, twisting his wrist harshly, “whatever I want.”

    He spread the Ninja’s ass like a rubber band, watching the muscle futilely flutter around him. He was small and tight but soft as butter, with a pinkness that showed his virginity. On a better day he might have spent more time playing with him, show him the benefits of a six inch lizard tongue, but eagerness took him over without a fight. He spat on the Ninja’s taint and watched it drool down the space between his fingers, inside the kid, and the Ninja twitched and hissed, toes flexing.

    “Normally I’m more of a gentleman, but, really, what’s the fun if it doesn’t hurt?”

    He’d been rock solid since he first landed a punch in their battle, what felt like hours ago, or maybe seconds, and saw blood blooming out from behind the Ninja’s mask as his nose broke. It was a relief to finally fish his dick out from his trousers. Lloyd watched, unable to breathe, as Garmadon laid it along his inner thigh, heavy and swollen. Garmadon spread his fingers as wide as he could, and Lloyd wheezed in terror. He was racing to find the right way to phrase what needed to be said and prevent what was about to happen. His mouth gaped but nothing came out.

    “You’re really gonna feel this one,” Garmadon said, nudging closer, “I’m gonna fill you up so full your ass won’t be fit for anyone but me.”

    “Don’t,” Lloyd quivered out, “don’t-!”

    “Oh, I will,” the fat head of his cock brushed between his fingers, and Lloyd felt its heat, “I’m gonna mold your body to me and me alone. Even if your little friends bust in and take you back, you’re gonna feel me, you’re gonna wake up at night with a fever between the thighs feeling me and wishing you’d never been rescued.”

    He leaned in close to Lloyd, the tips of his forked tongue running along his cheek.

    “I’m gonna make you mine.”

    “Dad!” said Lloyd.

    “Dad?” Garmadon chuckled, pulling out his fingers so only the kiss of his cock head held Lloyd open, and the shock of being suddenly emptied made Lloyd roll his head on his neck and whine raspily.

    “Your daddy can’t save you here. No one can.” And he stroked a clean finger along Lloyd’s filthy cheek and said the cruelest thing of all without even realizing it, “I’ll be your daddy tonight.”

    It was hard for Lloyd to reconcile the way that felt to hear. Garmadon’s complete lack of understanding hurt, terrified, but at the same time, those words, even said in the sleazy tone Garmadon adopted to mock him with, felt good. Very good. Good in ways he’d been trying to ignore. That scared him more than anything, that maybe Garmadon’s prediction would come entirely true and he wouldn’t be able to forget, ever, how good it felt, that he would never find another who could even come close to replicating the way Garmadon did. He dug his fingers into his palms and even through the tough material of his gloves he felt the skin give beneath his nails, and the shards of bone in his wrist throbbed.

    Garmadon thrust into him, and he arched back and screamed. It didn’t hurt the way it should have, and his scream devolved into a shaking sob because even with the burn, the stretch that made him think he was losing his mind, he wasn’t dying, wasn’t splitting in two. Garmadon was only a part of the way inside him, and he pulled out a bit and thrust in again, further now, and again, and again, working him open in ways even his thick fingers couldn’t.

    “Take it out, please, p-please, oh-!” Lloyd begged, and shook his head from side to side. Garmadon could just barely make out hints of green through his raw eyelids, and he stuck his tongue between his teeth.

    “That’s a good boy, you’re doing so well.”

    “Dad!” Lloyd sobbed again, blind and confused.

    Garmadon pushed into the root, balls weighing heavy on Lloyd’s ass, carving him open wider than he should ever have been and yet all he could feel was hot and wet and mindless.

    “Yeah, I’m your daddy,” Garmadon grunted, grinning so wide his face split across, “and you’re my little bitch.”

    This man was his father. Lloyd bucked up into him, howling the emotion he couldn’t understand enough to otherwise articulate.

    The Green Ninja was so soft inside. Garmadon knew the kid must be rubbed raw at this point, unused to anything inside him that wasn’t meant to be there, but he felt smooth as butter, like they were made to fit together. It had been a long time since he’d had a good, tight fuck, and getting revenge on the brat who’d hounded him for years now only made it sweeter. He had been talking out his ass when he made his comments about binding the Ninja to him, but now he was seriously considering keeping him. Conquering and pillaging was only as good as the treasures you brought back, after all. Two of his hands dug into the Ninja’s hips and held him up, really getting the angle right, and for a second he just pushed in deep as he could go and ground their hips together, feeling himself inside. He was almost certain that, if he wanted to, he could press a palm on the Ninja’s stomach and would feel his dick poking back.

    When he really thrust, really, for the first time, the kid’s head fell back on the stone with a loud thump and for a half moment he thought he’d killed him. He could still hear him though, humming and whining in that strangely lovely little weak voice of his, incoherent and yet clearly trying to say something. It was kind of sweet. Garmadon gave him a fond look as he slammed him, petting his belly and chest.

    “Yeah,” he muttered, “you like it, don’t you? All this time, you’ve always just been after my attention.”

    He tugged at the Ninja’s nipples until he was straining up to try and keep close to Garmadon’s hands.

    “Take it out,” the Ninja pleaded, “take it out, dad, dad!”

    “Shh,” Garmadon cooed, “daddy’s gonna make it all better.”

    “Oh god!” said the Ninja, clenching hard around him. His muscles fluttered like butterfly wings. Garmadon had felt the Ninja’s strength first hand, knew what he was capable of, but now, here he was, reduced to a soft, weak little toy. That clenching in his chest came back, spurring him on. He could see their connection, where the Ninja’s hole spread pink around him, somehow managing to take his girth despite everything. The kid’s thighs were shaking hard, spread too wide.

    Lloyd could feel everything, too much. Every pin prick of Garmadon’s claws as they slid across his nipples, every ridge of a thick vein on his cock as it forced inside him in ways that should never be possible. He pushed and clenched against it but it only heightened the feeling, sending spasms of pleasure through his nerves until his fingertips felt numb and his toes curled. Garmadon was, for lack of more appropriate terms, huge. The head of his cock well passed his prostate, making every thrust not only pound it but abuse it, rubbing heavily against him inside until he felt like he would die. He wished he would die. There was no way he could face what he was feeling when it was over, how horribly, wonderfully fulfilled it felt to hear Garmadon praise him, even in jest. To call him dad.

    Garmadon hiked him up higher, until Lloyd was only just touching the floor with his shoulders and head, fucking into him powerfully. It was a relief to finally have his wrists off the floor, though they had turned numb some time before (he couldn’t say when, because even with the blood in his throat and the slices in his legs and the bile in his stomach all he could focus on was the pleasure). His head hit the stone a few times, dazing him, but then Garmadon hunched forwards and grasped his hair through his mask in a tight fist and held him there. Lloyd thought maybe it would come off, and Garmadon would see and would know and would stop, and his heart lurched painfully, but no. It was perhaps to steady him, but felt almost like the touch of a real lover, putting softer flesh between the floor and his skull. He was already crying but wanted to cry more, harder, differently. He wanted Garmadon to understand what his tears meant. Through his muddy eyes he saw his father’s red mouth gaping with exertion.

    Rather than ramp up in volume as Garmadon fucked him, the Ninja seemed to quieten, his screams now softened to low, throaty moans caught between sorrow and pornography-quality pleasure. He had to sit back and watch, fascinated by his prey’s natural sensuality. His bruised chest heaved, nipples flushed and tender, and his hips rolled easily under Garmadon’s touch. He was a pretty picture, brightly colored with pain and sex. His pink cock bounced against his stomach, leaking.

    “Daddy,” the Ninja moaned weakly, and Garmadon felt the boil in his stomach start to peak.

    “You’ve got serious issues, kid,” Garmadon growled, loving it. He slammed into the Green Ninja, rutting him like an animal.

    “Seriously, I don’t know which dead beat in this crummy little town I have to thank for making you like this, but, damn. Thank you.”

    He spoke as if it was easy, but in actuality Garmadon was straining to stay cool. He bit the skin around Lloyd’s pectoral, dragging his teeth together until they met around his nipple, and teased it roughly, the split in his tongue dragging over the puffy flesh. Every hand was engaged in holding the Ninja steady, dragging him into his thrusts like a toy. Despite everything the Green Ninja looked like he was about to cum, skin dark where he could see it on his face, balls drawing tight. Garmadon hadn’t touched him once. Adorable.

    However cocky it made him feel to have reduced the Ninja to this so easily, it also drew him closer to his own edge, and this surprised him. Sure the kid was cute, but Garmadon was nearly two hundred years old and had the experience to show it. All their past battles seemed to have built up into one elaborate game of foreplay, one he had been riding the crux of for too long. His stomach grew taut, fire igniting in his already molten veins.

    “You’re good,” he ground out, licking his lips, “for a loser.”

    It was an absurdly childish statement and had Lloyd been in any way sane at the moment he would have been furious, but all he could focus on was the praise at the beginning, and he threw his head back and came. His body punished him for tensing with every livid nerve, but he couldn’t help it, coiled up hard into the hands that hurt him. Garmadon’s cock was so huge and hot and heavy inside, and he never stopped fucking him, not even slowed by the harsh contraction of his spasming body. He wanted to scream or cry or kick at his father with his legs but all he could do was hold on to consciousness, mouth open in an almost silent, elongated moan.

    Then he crumpled, totally, horribly drained. He had been compliant before in Garmadon’s arms, but was now doll like, whimpering softly as his breath returned. Garmadon soaked the Ninja’s orgasm in, hunching forward and plowing into his own hurriedly. Lloyd, dreamlike, gazed at him through slit eyes. Still wrapped in his furs and silks, Garmadon looked massive and rich, as regal and terrifying as his portraits in the history books made him out to be and yet so much warmer in person. Horrible, mean, punishing, but warmer.

    “Stop,” Lloyd whined, voice cracked and bloody, “it’s…”

    Garmadon ignored him, closing his eyes as he increased his pace and lost control over his pattern. What a nice, feeble voice he had. Garmadon wondered how old he really was. Probably about the age of his own son.

    “Too much,” the Ninja was gasping, hardly audible, “hurts, it’s too much…”

    Crushing their hips together, Garmadon sunk his teeth into the Ninja’s shoulder. He screamed, a pitched sound more of shock than anything, and, holding him there, Garmadon came inside him. It burned, worse than anything before it, and Lloyd hadn’t been prepared. He wailed as he was flooded, intimately aware of each pulse of cum inside him as Lord Garmadon, his father, clung to him with claws and teeth. The bite was almost painless because the sensations inside him had built to such a fever pitch he couldn’t concentrate on any single one of them. Tongue, teeth, cock, breath boiling on his wound, claws in his skin, cum. In this confusion he found a second, smaller orgasm squeeze what was left inside him out, all air leaving his body as a few pathetic dribbles of jism twitched their way out of his spent dick.

    Garmadon withdrew his teeth and pressed the bridge of his nose to the same spot, hot with blood, every muscle inside him tight for a moment as orgasm reached its tip. Then it passed, and with a rush of air he was himself again, sweating over the Green Ninja, captive, though not for long. The Ninja’s eyes were squeezed shut, drowning in their own tears. Some of his hair had slipped out from the disheveled folds of his mask, slicked to his forehead, and for a moment Garmadon felt the strangest urge to stroke it back into place.

    He pulled himself off the kid, cock coming loose with a slick pop. Completely wrecked, his hole could not close properly, pulsing weakly while thick cum bubbled out between his thighs. As he did up his pants Garmadon admired him, truly debauched there. His legs trembled, frozen open by exhaustion.

    “I could leave you like this,” he said, watching for any sign of distress. The kid was barely able to crack open one pretty green eye, bloodshot and bruised. “Let your friends find out what kind of kinky business you’ve been up to. Would you like that? I can tell them you called me Daddy.”

    The Green Ninja didn’t move, just breathing so deeply and heavily it was painful. Garmadon felt he should be disappointed, but there was a fine art in the pain of someone so ready to face and accept their own fate.

    “No, that would be too easy, wouldn’t it? Make things really black and white again, huh?”

    He crouched down next to the Ninja, lifting him with two hands and finding the crumpled remains of his pants with the others.

    “And we both know that you and I don’t do simple.”

    Lloyd watched his father redress him, callously but carefully, fastening them tightly around his waist again as before. Every movement ached, but he made no sign of it. He focused on his silence instead of thinking. Acknowledgement made it real.

    “This wasn’t all about me, after all. You enjoyed it too.”

    Garmadon said these words strangely and with a look that was stranger still, but Lloyd could not decipher what it meant. He stared at Lloyd for what felt like a long while, unmoving. Lloyd stared back, honest and tired. He wanted, somehow, to convey what had just happened to him, but his eyes could only say so much. Garmadon looked away first.

    “Your friends will be here soon. I could keep you around, but then I’d never get rid of them. Besides, I don’t think I’ll be having much more trouble from you, right, kiddo?”

    Lloyd attempted to mouth something, but Garmadon couldn’t see it through his mask and continued,

    “Buh-bye.”

    As he left Lloyd realized the worst torture was yet to come. Garmadon had replaced his pants for a reason and left him with a choice. Neither answer was one he could easily live with. Nor was how much he knew Garmadon was right. Never so badly had he wanted his father.


End file.
